


Being the Bitch

by melanie1982



Category: Donnie Wahlberg - Fandom, Jonathan Knight - Fandom, NKOTB - Fandom, New Kids On The Block
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Discipline, Dom!Jon, M/M, Oral Sex, S and M, candle wax, clothespins, sub!Donnie, verbal taunting/humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 07:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4951990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a work of fiction. I don't know Donnie Wahlberg or Jon Knight in real life. I make no money from this story. This story contains m/m kissing, m/m touching, m/m oral sex, m/m anal sex, and m/m bondage and discipline, including pain and humiliation. If any of that offends you, please don't read this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being the Bitch

Being The Bitch

Donnie took another sip of his drink, then set it down on the bar with a sigh. Jon nursed his Jack and Coke, waiting; timing was everything, and prolonging the tension would heighten the pleasure of the evening's events for both of them. Donnie had no idea what was coming, and Jon enjoyed basking in that power. "What's on your mind, D?"

Donnie sighed again. "I don't get it, Jon. Every woman I love ends up leaving, or I screw it up. I really thought it would work this time." Jon arched one dark brow, as if to ask, "Really?"

Donnie tried again. "I gave her my all. I followed all of her rules about not acting sexy, dressing differently, cutting off female friends - what more could I do? And she STILL wasn't happy!" He smacked his open palm against the bar to emphasize 'still,' and it left a brief, steamy imprint. The bartender glanced over his shoulder, then shrugged and resumed his task. Jon shook his head, and Donnie continued.

"The girl before her -" he still, even after years had passed, couldn't say Alyssa's name without feeling too many things at once - "I offered her my life, my everything. I would've taken care of her and her girls, but she turned me down. She married someone else. She said she loved me, but she didn't believe it would work out long-term, that I couldn't be faithful. What am I doing wrong, Jon?"

This was his moment; Donnie had swung the door wide open, and all Jon had to do was walk through it. "Donnie, what do all those women from your past have in common?"

Donnie started to form an answer about most of them having the same physical features, but Jon waved this away.

"Nah. I don't mean physically. I mean their make-up, their character." D was at a loss, so Jon helped him out. "Most of them - excluding your first wife, and excluding Alyssa - were bitches." He let that sit for a moment, finishing his drink at a swallow and tapping the bar for a refill. The bartender, a rather slothful fellow, hopped to it with surprising enthusiasm.

Donnie frowned. "What are you saying, J?"

Jon smiled, but there was menace beneath it which Donnie failed to see. "I'm saying, you keep choosing women who try to dominate you. You're at war with your own nature, your truest self; everyone thinks you're this powerful, confident Lothario - when you're aching and dying to be dominated. You want to be the bitch, Donnie."

Something shifted in the man's solar plexus. D opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, not knowing how to refute what his friend had just said. Jon took the opportunity to elaborate. "Face it, D. You behave badly so that a strong woman will come and put you in your place. You carry so much guilt and shame about who you are and what you want; you try to live up to the world's expectations, and when you fall short, you hate yourself. If you would only accept who you truly are, and find someone who understood those needs and could fulfill them, you'd be so happy." D had tears in his eyes; happiness had been elusive. None of his money, fame or accolades could fill that void. He spent his life playing different roles, depending on his audience, and he was sick of himself.

"So who am I, Jon?"

Jon placed a hand on Donnie's knee, so lightly and naturally that the touch did not immediately register. Donnie sat, rapt, like a rube watching Jon turn over tarot cards. "You know who and what you are, Donnie. You're a very, very, very bad boy." He had paused after each 'very,' and Donnie's face drained of color before turning a deep crimson. When he spoke, his voice was strangled.

"What did you just say?"

Jon swiveled on the bar stool, facing his friend and positioning his legs wide apart, emphasizing his asset and signaling his intent. "You're a very bad boy, Donnie, and you want to be punished. You NEED it, don't you?"

Donnie trembled. "Punished?"

Jon nodded, not breaking eye contact. "You need that pain to release you from the burden of being so bad. You need to give up control in order to be cleansed of your wrongs. Isn't that right?"

D found himself nodding, entranced; the man who almost never shut up found that speech now eluded him. After a moment, he found his voice again. "What should I do? I don't know how to.."

Jon's hand shifted to his friend's shoulder, reassuring in the firmness of its grip. "Let me show you the way. Let me help you explore who you are and what you need in order to be happy." Donnie's mind was a jumble of questions; how did Jon know about this stuff? What was going to happen if he agreed to this? How would this affect their friendship? What would the others say?.. "Let your body decide, Donnie. Switch off your mind, and trust me; do what feels good. Do you trust me?" Jon's voice had a tone D had never heard before, warm and rich as velvet, and he felt himself surrendering to his friend.

"I trust you, Jon. Please, help me." Jon whispered something to the bartender, and the two men left without incident, their tab unpaid.

Back at the hotel room, Donnie began to think, and thinking led to fear. Jon sensed his friend was on the fast-track to panic, and had to act quickly to squelch it. "Donnie, I've played like this before, many times. You're with me, and you're safe. Have I ever hurt you?" D had to admit that Jon hadn't. "We're going to start slowly, with a massage." Donnie was wondering whether Jon had been joking or exaggerating about punishment; how could a massage be punishment? He began by undressing Donnie, slowly, with sensuous caresses. When Donnie was down to his underwear, Jon told him to take them off himself. D did so, blushing, embarrassed by his erection, then embarrassed when Jon gave it barely a glance. "Now, lie down on your stomach on the bed." Donnie did as he was told, baring his backside to his best friend, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. "No peeking, D, or I'll have to blindfold you." Donnie's inner brat was itching to peek, but Jon's tone was sharper now, and he was afraid of what might happen if he disobeyed. Soon he felt Jon's hand on his shoulders, warm and slick with baby oil, pulling at the knots with expert skill.

D sighed, not flinching as Jon climbed onto the bed and straddled his back to have better access to him. Minutes passed with nothing but the wet sound of skin caressing and squeezing skin, and the two men's hushed breathing. Jon worked every inch of that expanse of flesh, reversing the damage done by stress and hard work, leaving Donnie limp and supple. When the hands reached D's crack, he clenched his cheeks - and then it happened.

SMACK!

Donnie gasped, and his head jerked upward as he tried to look behind him at his friend. "You peeked," Jon said, shaking his head sadly.

"Dude, you just fuckin' SPANKED me!"

Jon was non-plussed. Rifling through the nightstand drawer, he retrieved a blindfold, which he swiftly secured around Donnie's head. "I spanked you because you tried to deny me access to your ass, Donnie. You said you trusted me."

"Yeah, man, but, that's.. I mean, come on!"

Jon tsked. "If you're going to fight me, I will have to restrain you to the bed. Is that what you need, Donnie? Are you going to make me tie you to the bed?"

Donnie groaned; his rebellious side was rearing up to argue, but his dick was in agreement with Jon's threats. Jon unceremoniously slid one hand beneath D's abs, inching down to feel the hardness below his navel. "Your body seems to enjoy that idea, Donnie. It's your mind which is choking on it."

Jon reached beneath the bed, pulling up wrist and ankle restraints and fastening them to Donnie while he spoke calm, hypnotic words of reassurance. "This is for your own good, my friend. You've been disobedient, and I'm showing mercy; rather than stopping play and leaving you unfulfilled, I'm going to help you behave. This is a corrective measure, until you learn to control yourself for me."

Jon stepped back, depriving Donnie of touch. "Now. We need a safe-word, precious. You must only use the safe-word if you absolutely can't stand any more and want me to stop what I'm doing. How about.. Patriots?" Donnie groaned again. The last thing he needed right now was to think about his man-crush Tom Brady; his dick was already leaking a bit of pre-cum into the expensive sheets. "If you call out 'Patriots,' I will stop what I'm doing and release you. Remember the safe-word. What is it?"

Donnie mumbled, "Patriots."

SMACK! Another stinging blow, making Donnie thrust toward the mattress. "You will speak up when you answer me, Donnie."

"PATRIOTS!", Donnie moaned. Jon soothed his burning cheek with his hand in slow circles.

"Very good. And one more thing - while we play, you will address me as 'Sire.' If I ask you a question, or if you need to say anything to me, you will begin or end with 'Sire.' Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sire."

Jon nodded. His dick was pulsing inside of his tight jeans at the sight of his friend's naked form splayed out on the bed like this. "So vulnerable. So beautiful. I could do absolutely anything to you right now, Donnie, and you wouldn't be able to stop me, would you?"

Donnie shook his head. SMACK!

"No, Sire!" He was learning.

Jon rummaged for something else in the drawer. Donnie heard the hiss of a match being lit, then sniffed as the scent of cinnamon wafted toward him. "Cinnamon is an aphrodisiac, Donnie. So is this.."

Donnie felt the first drop of hot wax hit squarely in the center of his back, hissing through clenched teeth. As it cooled slightly and became bearable, he moaned. The first drop was followed by more, making a trail along his spine. "Are you enjoying this, Donnie?"

"Ohh.. Yes, Sire!" Jon swirled his fingertips in the wax as it cooled, rubbing it into the skin. "There are so many things I've dreamed of doing to you, Donnie - wicked things you can't even begin to imagine.."

Donnie felt delicious fear and anticipation as he tried to imagine what other games Jon had in store for him.

The wax stopped, and he sensed Jon moving away. "What shall I do next? That plump ass is awfully pale; perhaps I should make it a pretty rosy red. Would you like that, Donnie?"

Donnie wasn't sure, and he hesitated.

SMACK!

"Uhh! YES, Sire! Make my ass red!"

Jon landed a few more open-palmed spankings upon that sweet mallow, and then stopped. Donnie was left waiting, wondering, unable to peek. D heard Jon retrieving an object from the drawer.

"Donnie, this is known as a riding crop. It's made of leather, and it's made to sting without breaking the skin. I'm going to use it on you now. Do you have anything to say about that?"

Donnie's mouth was dry, but he forced himself to reply. "No, Sire."

SMACK!

"Very good. Your ass is mine, isn't it, Donnie?"

"Yes, Sire!"

Jon administered a series of blows, using only half the force of which his arm was capable. Donnie was writhing on the sheet, not sure which was more torturous: the blows, or the pause in between when he suffered the absence of that sweet pain.

"Such a bad, naughty boy, Donnie. Aren't you?"

"Yes, Sire! I am a very bad boy! Punish me!" Was that really him speaking like that? Had he lost his mind? D decided that, if this was insanity, he wanted more of it - lots more.

Jon admired his handiwork, the blush upon Donnie's ass-cheeks where they had absorbed the blows. "Tell me how you've been bad, Donnie."

D faltered; he wasn't sure what to answer. Was he supposed to make something up, something sexy? Was he supposed to -

SMACK!

"Ohh!"

Jon admonished him. "You will tell me what you've done to deserve this punishment, Donnie. Tell me what you've fantasized about in your private thoughts. What was the last fantasy you masturbated to?"

Donnie shriveled up inside. He didn't want to voice out loud the things he thought about when he was stroking himself into a frenzy, especially not to his best friend. More blows rained down upon him, including a blow to the backs of his thighs.

"Speak!"

"Yes, Sire! I.. thought about Alyssa. I imagined.. oh.. I imagined showing up at her house, begging her to come away with me.." He paused, and Jon administered discipline. "I imagined going to my knees and using my hands and my tongue to try to persuade her. Please, Sire.."

Jon leveled two sharp blows across Donnie's back, making him howl. "Go on."

"She made me beg, made me let her sit on my face, and I spent hours pleasing her. She finally agreed to go with me."

Jon paused. "What would you do to persuade me to be with you?"

Donnie groaned again. Him and Jon, together? It could never happen; there was Harley, and, well, all the fans - how could it work? Jon opened the drawer again, and Donnie tensed, wondering what punishment was coming.

"You've been naughtier than I thought. I'm going to have to increase the intensity of the punishments."

Oh, please, yes.. "Yes, Sire."

"Naughty boys like having their asses fingered. Are you a naughty boy, Donnie?"

He panted into the mattress; his biggest fear was about to become reality. He'd never even let a woman back there before, and now.. "Yes, Sire. I'm so bad. Punish me, please!"

Jon snapped a latex glove onto his hand, slathering it with generous squirts of lube. Donnie's legs were already spread, his tight puckered hole in view. Jon licked his lips; this was going to be so good.

"Do you feel your Sire's finger on your hole?" Donnie answered affirmatively. "Do you want this finger in your ass, Donnie?" Donnie answered that he did, wriggling in his impatience. Jon's finger slid in to the first knuckle, then stopped, letting Donnie have a moment to adjust to that feeling of pressure. The finger worked its way in, all the way in, and Donnie felt it. It was good. Better than good.

"Do you like having a finger up your ass, D?"

"Oh, yes, Sire!"

Jon began to move in and out, mimicking the act he most wanted to engage in, listening to Donnie's soft grunts of pleasure grow ever more desperate. "Could you cum from my finger fucking your ass, Donnie?"

"I don't know, Sire."

Jon slid in another finger, stretching the hole and making Donnie curse. "Fuck me, Sire. Please."

Jon stopped.

"Do you understand what you're asking for, boy?"

Donnie did. Jon wasn't done teasing him yet.

Jon left the room, returning from the kitchen with another form of torture. Donnie felt the burn of an ice cube making its way down his back, over the faded marks of the crop, towards his quivering ass - and then it was THERE, against his hole, so good it was almost too much to bear. When that ice cube slid into his hole, Donnie saw stars, bucking against the sheet with abandon. Jon let it melt considerably before discarding it and replacing it with his hot tongue.

"Oh, fuck, Sire, that's so good!" Jon lapped at his opening with reverence, tasting him, savoring him. No one had done this for D before, as he'd been too squeamish to let them - but now.. Jon noticed Donnie moving against the mattress, and stopped his licking.

"Were you trying to get off without permission, Donnie?"

Donnie froze. "Sire, I.. I'm sorry; it just.."

Jon spanked Donnie, harder than the other times. "Your Sire decides if and when you cum, boy. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sire."

Jon decided it was time to up the torture. "I'm going to place you on your back, so that I can access the front of your body. Don't resist me." He released the restraints and rolled D over, reattaching the cuffs once D was in position. Jon enjoyed the sight of Donnie, blindfolded and exposed, his hard cock sitting up and begging for release. He began with kisses, making Donnie taste his own musky ass, taking possession of his mouth before moving on to kisses and nibbles along his ears and neck. Donnie was blind with need, entering a head-space of total surrender. All that mattered was sensation; there was nothing beyond that, nothing at all.

"You're learning, my boy. It's time for a test." Jon moved away long enough to disrobe, then settled into position high up on D's chest. "Show me how grateful you are. Show me how a good boy worships his Sire's cock."

Donnie could scent Jon's arousal just inches away, could already imagine how he would taste - and then he was THERE, brushing against his lips, asking to be received. Donnie licked Jon's head, swirling it with his tongue and being rewarded with murmurs of approval. "Such a good boy, taking his Sire's cock in his mouth. Do you want me to cum in your mouth, Donnie? Want it all over your lips, your face? Or would you rather I cum in your ass?" Donnie, unable to speak with his mouth full, groaned, and the vibrations made Jon even harder. D used all the moves he enjoyed when he was on the receiving end of oral attentions, and soon Jon was close. "Such a naughty boy, wanting to suck cock. You needed this, didn't you? You needed to be humbled, to be bossed around. You love it, don't you?" Jon continued to issue a steady stream of verbal filth which made Donnie achingly hard and struggling to focus. He wanted to drain Jon's balls, to swallow every drop of this man's cum, this man whom he loved more than most of the women he'd dallied with. How had Jon known this what was he needed? D owed him a great debt for opening him up to this new world of pleasure.

Jon pulled out, leaving D's mouth feeling empty and used. "Please, Sire - let me finish you."

"Oh, you will finish me, but not like this. I'm going to let you up now, so you can get on your knees for me. I'm going to fuck you, Donnie."

True to his word, the restraints released him once again, and D felt Jon's capable hands roll him over and tug his hips into position.

"I'm going to fuck that beautiful ass and make it mine. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sire. Make it yours."

Jon had one more element of pain to introduce. From the magic drawer came simple, everyday clothespins, and Jon whispered to Donnie to brace himself for the pain. "I'm going to clip these to your nipples. You are not to remove them, do you hear me?" Donnie assented, and Jon clipped them into place. The pain was bearable, but he didn't know what was to come..

With a generous application of lube, Jon eased himself into D's ass, giving him time to adjust to the feeling. He started slow, but as Donnie proved himself to be a big boy capable of taking it, he increased the force and speed of his thrusts. "Tell me when you're close, Donnie."

Donnie couldn't imagine cumming without someone or something stimulating his dick, but he found he was close, especially when Jon began to pound a sweet spot he hadn't known he possessed. "Sire.. I'm close. Sire.."

Jon didn't let up, driving him onwards. "Tell me when you're right at the edge. Call my name, just as you're about to let go."

Donnie panted, sweating, bucking against Jon like a pathetic slut, wanting it all. "Such a dirty slut, taking that cock. Look at you backing up on me, needing more. What a greedy ass. Oh, you like that? Right there? Oh, yess.." 

Donnie remembered Jon's command, calling his name. "Jon.. now.."

Jon reached around and unclipped one clothespin, then another, then another. The pain was excruciating, but Donnie couldn't stop; the pain mixed with the pleasure, sending searing heat through every fiber of his being as he shot his load in multiple bursts. He couldn't tell where one ended and the next began. Jon finished inside him, riding him until the last drop was spent.

"OHHMYGOOOOOD SIRE!"

Jon smiled, slowing his movements, catching his breath. He allowed Donnie to rest, collapsing onto the bed beside him.

"Sire..Jon.."

"Just 'Jon' when we're not playing, Donnie."

"I..umm.. Thank you."

Jon kissed him tenderly. "You're welcome."

"Jon?"

"Mm?"

"I don't know.. I can't imagine doing that with a woman. I can't imagine doing that with...anyone else." He felt embarrassed, suddenly shy - after all that he had just done, shamelessly giving it up, he didn't think he had it in him to be modest.

Jon nodded. Should he tell Donnie about the arrangement he already had with Danny and Joey, about the fact that he was their Sire, and that they would be all too happy to share him with Donnie? Should he tell Donnie about collars, and how they were a form of commitment between a Sire and his subs? "We can talk about that later, D. For now, we've earned a nap."

Donnie let sleep overtake him, falling into vivid dreams of what had occurred, and what could await he when he woke...


End file.
